


In The Stars

by meledea



Series: 4Ever [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Childhood Friends, Alternate Universe - Human, F/F, Pre-Relationship, Underage Drinking, background Cora/Erica, background Scott/Stiles/Allison, body art, moping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-08
Updated: 2015-02-08
Packaged: 2018-03-11 01:39:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3310838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meledea/pseuds/meledea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scott laughed. “You’re forgetting this is <i>Kira</i> we’re talking about. You’re like, the sun to her moon. Even <i>if</i> she doesn’t feel the same, she’ll never let it ruin things between you. Nothing has ever gotten between you two!”</p><p>“Except an ocean,” Malia muttered, picking at the grass and pouting. “And you’re wrong. <i>She’s</i> the sun. Have you <i>seen</i> her smile?”</p><p>(or, 'heart-felt talks with Scott part 2: Malia')</p>
            </blockquote>





	In The Stars

**Author's Note:**

> set about seven months before [I Want You (Do You? Want Me Too?)](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2692391)
> 
> for reference, Halloween costumes are as follows: Malia is wearing a fox onesie, Scott is Captain America, and Cora is Lara Croft. (And yes, Allison and Stiles were absolutely Howling Commandos era Peggy and Bucky.)
> 
> more love to [Christa](http://laurahaie.tumblr.com) for beta-ing!

 

Malia stared at the stars above her, eyes searching desperately, trying in vain to locate a specific constellation despite the light pollution. The noise from the Halloween party floated across the lawn and she ignored it in favour of swearing with increasing volume, frustrated. There was a rhythmic crunch of footsteps across the dead leaves nearby and suddenly a dark head with a familiar mop of hair and crooked jaw entered her vision and blocked her view of the sky. She grumbled at it.  
  
“Are you drunk?” Scott sounded equally amused and concerned.  
  
“Maybe. A little. Not really.” She patted around on the ground next to her until she found the bottle, unscrewing the cap and going for another swig, not bothering to sit up. Of course, she poured more on herself than in her mouth and she sputtered and sat up, swearing again as the liquid soaked into the flannel of her fox onesie. Scott was laughing, the asshole. “Ugh, whatever. I don’t care, this stuff tastes awful anyway.”  
  
He flopped down next to her. He seemed to have lost his helmet and shield somewhere but he was still wearing those ridiculous red boots. She sighed and grimaced her way through another swig of alcohol.  
  
“You okay?”  
  
“No,” she grumbled, bluntly. “I’m terrible. My best friend is halfway across the world and I miss her like crazy.”  
  
“She’s not _halfway_ across—“  
  
Malia cut him off with a wave of her paw. “Whatever, that doesn’t matter. It just _feels_ like it okay?” She stared at the bottle. “I don’t get to see her for like _months_ and I hate it.”  
  
“It’s only, what, six? Seven months away? And you guys skype right?”  
  
“Yeah, but, it’s Halloween and she’s not _here_. We’ve dressed in matching outfits _every_ Halloween since we were _five_ , ever since the first time she came to one of these parties and we were wearing matching outfits. It’s _tradition!_ And this is the first year she’s not here and it _sucks_ ,” she whined.  
  
“Why don’t you go use Cora’s computer and skype her? She’ll be awake, and probably missing you just as much.”  
  
“That’s a terrible idea.”  
  
“What? Why?”  
  
“Because I’m drunk enough that I’ll probably tell her how much I love her and wanna make out with her and it’ll make things awkward and she’ll never talk to me again,” Malia grumbled.  
  
“Wait, what?” Scott was staring at her in surprise when she glanced over.  
  
“Yeah. I’m in love with my best friend and I didn’t realise until she left and now she’s in another fucking country and I don’t know how to tell her or even if I should because it’ll probably ruin ten years of friendship and everything is terrible.”  
  
Scott was grinning at her, delighted. “You’re—really? That’s great!”  
  
Malia sighed and glared at him. “Did you miss the part where she doesn’t feel the same and it will ruin our friendship?”  
  
“You don’t know that! And who says it will? Sometimes it works out fine.”  
  
“You three are exceptions to the rule, okay. You’re like this weird magical combination that exists purely to be the exception to like, _every_ rule. Although maybe it’s just you, maybe you’re the magical relationship ingredient there. Or Allison? It sure as hell isn’t Stiles.”  
  
Scott just laughed. “You’re forgetting this is _Kira_ we’re talking about. You’re like, the sun to her moon. Even _if_ she doesn’t feel the same, she’ll never let it ruin things between you. Nothing has ever gotten between you two!”  
  
“Except an ocean,” Malia muttered, picking at the grass and pouting. “And you’re wrong. _She’s_ the sun. Have you _seen_ her smile?”  
  
She heard him snicker at that. “I think you should tell her. Not when you’ve been drinking, obviously, but definitely tell her.”  
  
“I don’t wanna do it while she’s halfway across the world though. Which means waiting until she’s back for summer, and that’s an _age_ away. What if she meets someone in Japan?  
  
“That’ll _never_ happen.”  
  
“You don’t _know_ that. What if she meets some cute awkward guy with a dorky bicycle and they get all awkward and adorable around each other and she decides she’d rather stay in Japan for the summer with him and then never returns home ever and I end up alone in the preserve in a cottage with fifty cats.”  
  
“Malia, that’ll _never_ _happen_.”  
  
“Yeah, you’re right. Cats hate me. I’ll just make friends with the crows instead.”  
  
Scott huffed a laugh. “I dunno, I always thought that Kiki and Ursula were better suited than Kiki and Tombo.”  
  
Malia was silent, staring at the stars above her. _I know,_ she wanted to say. _I know and I always thought the same. Kiki deserves to be with someone who supports her and cheers her up when she’s at her lowest, who sees her beauty and magic but doesn’t put her on a pedestal, who treats her like an equal and not a challenge._ But she keeps it to herself, listening to the dulled sounds of the party from the house, licking traces of whiskey from her lips, watching her breath in the cool autumn air.  
  
She searches the skies again, trying in vain to pick out one small faint constellation among the billions of stars. She could see it so clearly when she closed her eyes, but above her it was elusive, faint. _Too much distance,_ she thought. _I can’t see her anymore._  
  
There’s a rustle as Scott shifted slightly beside her. “You know, at Erica’s sixteenth, Kira and I—we didn’t actually kiss. During seven minutes of heaven? I just put some of her lipgloss on to troll Stiles. You know that right?”  
  
“Yeah, she told me later that night. She’s terrible at keeping secrets from me, you know,” Malia says, lips curling into a fond smile.  
  
The silence that follows seems somehow loaded, though, and she turns her head to look at Scott. His face seems frozen on the edge of saying something.  
  
She frowns. “What’s that face for?”  
  
“Malia—”  
  
“Hey McCall, is that my cousin out there with you?” a voice rang out over the yard.  
  
“Y-Yeah,” Scott called back.  
  
Cora stomped over in her hiking boots with her ponytail swinging, shivering slightly in her singlet, and looked at them. She rolled her eyes. “Christ, Tate. Are you still moping?” Malia made a grumbling noise at her. Cora squinted at the bottle in her hand. “Wait, is that Mom’s cooking whiskey?!”  
  
“I think so.”  
  
“Gross.” Cora wrinkled her nose. “Come on, get up. You’re lucky you’re crashing here tonight. Your dad would pitch a fit if he saw you like this.”  
  
Malia sighed, letting herself get dragged back to the Hale house, but not without throwing one last hopeful glance at the skies in the direction of vulpecula. She couldn’t see it, of course, but she fell asleep that night with the clear image of the pattern in blue ink across smooth skin.   

 

..

 

When Malia rolled out of bed it was past midday and the smell of greasy food was wafting upstairs. Grumbling at the slight chill in the air she pulled on some woolly socks and a ratty sweater over her pyjamas, then wrapped herself up in Derek’s ratty grandpa cardigan that was hanging on the back of his door before she wandered downstairs.  
  
Cora slid a plate with a couple of slices of reheated pizza towards her without even looking. “There’s coffee on the bench. I hope Derek’s bed didn’t smell gross or anything cos I’m pretty sure he didn’t change the sheets before he went away.”  
  
Malia grunted in response, more focussed on caffeinating than responding. She was pretty sure she crawled into the bed covered in dirt and bits of dead leaves last night, so the sheets would have be washed today anyway. She’d just shower thoroughly later.  
  
It was only after she’d finished eating and most of the coffee was gone that she noticed what had Cora so occupied. She was sitting on the kitchen table, carefully painting design to her girlfriend’s back.  
  
“What are you doing?”  
  
“Experimenting,” Cora murmured, not bothering to elaborate.  
  
It was Erica that spoke up. “She figured out how to make a semi-permanent body paint the other day. It’s waterproof. She wanted to see how long it lasts before it flakes off.”  
  
“Stop talking, you move when you do,” Cora grumbled; Erica rolled her eyes.  
  
Malia thought about blue dots across a collarbone again, about the faint constellation that she loved so much and the girl it reminded her of that she loved even more. She didn’t have the same mole on her neck to start the pattern from, but that didn’t matter; the idea of something tangible, something meaningful, something that was the closest to a declaration as she could handle at this stage.  
  
It was okay though. It was private, personal. This wouldn’t be a name engraved into her skin, it was a code, and an experiment.  
  
And it felt _right_.  
  
“Hey, Cora?”  
  
“Mhmm?”  
  
“Think you could do one for me next?”

 

**Author's Note:**

> most common tropes in my writing: Scott being a good friend, and heartfelt talks.
> 
> come hang out on [tumblr](http://neighbourhoodwitch.tumblr.com)!


End file.
